The Case and Mystery of Tabitha Williams
by LittlePixie-nerd
Summary: Mrs. Hudson's niece is in dire need of help and a safe place to stay. Will Sherlock and John be able to help the young mother. How will her presence change the dynamics and maybe even the occupants of 221B? Rating for use of language and possible future content.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my first attempt at a Sherlock fan fiction.  
This takes place directly after the first episode of season one "A study in pink".**  
**The idea came to me on day while driving home from work. I couldn't get it out of my head since then, so I decided to write it down.**  
**And just as a warning: I may have the rough storyline in my head and the first few chapters outlined or even already written. But I can not guarantee regular updates. I will try my best but I promise nothing.**

**English is not my native language so I want to apologize beforehand for any spelling or grammatical errors that might sneak past the correction program. Feel free to point them out in a friendly way, so I can correct it and improve my writing.**

**Constructive criticism is more than welcomed and appreciated.**

**With that said. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it. :)**

**Oh, and of course I don't own anything recognizable from the show.**

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Chapter 1: _A new case?_

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson just entered 221 b Baker Street with Chinese take out in hand shortly after midnight, when Martha Hudson's landline started ringing.

She came into the hallway wearing a housecoat and appeared to still be half asleep, when she realized her tenants had just entered the building.

"Sherlock, Mr. Watson! You are home late! Not that that's any of my business, of course. I wonder who could be calling at this time of night? So inconsiderate."

Sherlock was just about to start going up the stairs to his – no, _their _flat – when Mrs Hudson picked up the phone. "Hello?"

An unintelligible and frantic female voice could be heard through the speaker, making Sherlock stop on the first step, turning around to the exchange on the phone.

"Tabbi? Tabitha is that you? Calm down dear. What is the matter, darling?", Mrs. Hudson tried to calm the late night caller.

The two men could hear more frantic talking through the phone but were unable to understand anything that was being said.  
Now intrigued, Sherlock stepped closer to Mrs. Hudson. John, more worried for the person on the other end, did the same.  
Mrs. Hudson became more distressed the more she heard.

"What do you mean? Are you certain? Give me the address!"

She was grabbing for the pen and notepad she had laying besides the telephone and wrote down the given address.

"Don't you worry, dear. I am going to get you help. Hide, you hear me? Stay hidden for as long as you can! Stay safe! I love you."

John stood confused and worried in the middle of the hallway and asked: "What is going on?"

But Mrs. Hudson ignored her newest tenant and went to grab Sherlock's coat.

"Sherlock! Please, you have to go and help her!"

"Go where? Help who and with what, Mrs. Hudson? I need specifics if I am to be of any help."

He might have come off as indifferent but the feeling of worry grew inside him. He liked Mrs. Hudson and felt protective of her. He certainly did not like her being so upset.

"Tabbi, Tabitha. She is my youngest niece from my husbands side. Some brutal gang boy is obsessed with her. I helped her to get to some-place safe. But he's found her, Sherlock! He's found her!"  
She holds out the paper with the address to Sherlock.

"Please help her! Keep her safe and bring her here."

"Shouldn't we be calling the police then?", John asked on edge.

"As if those idiots would be of any help! They would only make things worse!", Mrs. Hudson snapped at him. The stress of the situation getting to her.

Sherlock looked at John with a determined look in his eyes before turning to Mrs. Hudson and squeezing her arms that still clung to his coat.

He nodded at her in reassurance before turning and rushing past the doctor out of the front door, calling "You coming, John?" over his shoulder on his way out.

John meanwhile looked from Mrs. Hudson to the front door and back at his new landlady. He stepped towards the exit before turning back around and – with an apologetic smile - pushed the bags of Chinese take out into Mrs. Hudson hands and rushed after Sherlock.

_Living here is certainly **not** going to be boring!_~ John thought.  
For a brief moment, he wondered what he had gotten himself into and he questioned his sanity for not thinking twice of following the "high functioning sociopath" into unknown danger. _Again. _

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on the task at hand while following Sherlock out of the building.  
Sherlock – already sitting in a taxi – calls out: "Come on! Time is of importance here!"  
John climbed into the taxi and it drove off into the night.

Mrs. Hudson still stood in the hallway, a hand on top of her heart.  
"Oh dear, I hope they all stay safe.", she muttered to herself, looking after the taxi that was bringing this strange duo towards their next case.


	2. Chapter 2 Just in time

**AN.: Aaand that's the second part. Please leave a comment and tell me what you think. Your opinion means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy it. :)**

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Chapter two: Just in time

The taxi stopped in an upper middle class neighbourhood on the outskirts of London in front of an unassuming house.  
All lights were off and at first glance, nothing seemed off.

"Are you sure we are at the right place?", John asked after exiting the taxi and looking around the quiet street.  
"This is the address Mrs. Hudson was given. We are at the right place.", Sherlock answered, scanning the surrounding for any abnormalities. He could find nothing out of the ordinary until his eyes landed on the slightly ajar front door of the house, "And we might already be to late. Come!"

He pointed towards the door and walked swiftly and silently down the path.  
John, after spotting what Sherlock meant, followed just as silent.  
Getting closer, both men could clearly hear the sounds of arguing coming from somewhere in the house.

John still thought that they should have called the police. They would have been here faster than Sherlock and himself. Who knows what's going on inside the house. Mrs. Hudson did say something about a brutal gang boy after all…  
At this moment he really regretted getting rid of the gun he used not three hours earlier to safe Sherlock's life.  
_Oh well, nothing for it now_

Sherlock noiselessly opened the front door and entered the house. It was obvious to him that some sort of struggle went down here. On top of a dresser, the small glass bowl that held the keys had been thrown over. A handbag lay before the dresser, the Contents were scattered across the floor along with the keys from the bowl.  
The voices came from the end of the hallway. Presumably the living room.

Both men slowly made their way towards the door that led to the arguing voices, careful not to step on anything along the way.  
Now closer, they could understand what was being said.  
"What do you want here, anyway?", a slightly trembling female voice could be heard.

_That must be Tabitha. She must be talking to that gang guy., _John thought.

"Why, making you see reason, of course!", a man replied. He sounded self-assured, almost arrogant.  
"I want you by my side, don't you know? And I always get what I want."  
Sherlock signed John to stop when he reached the edge of the doorway.  
Carefully peeking around the corner, Sherlock could see two people standing in the middle of the room. Illuminated only by the light coming from outside.

A man – 1,80 meters tall, thin but muscular – and a woman – only 1,50 meters tall, petite.  
Both seemed to be in their early- to mid-twenties.  
The woman had her arms crossed over chest. She seemed to be suppressing a huff at the intruders statement.

"As flattering as that is, I think I made myself quiet clear that I'm not interested. Why can't you just accept that?"  
"Oh honey, you're just in denial. Deep down you want me just as much as I want you. You can't resist me forever. No one can. I _always _win in the end.", the yet unnamed man said with a grin in his voice, "I understand that you needed a break. I get it, I really do. But it's time you come home to me. I will take good care of you, you know I will."

He attempted to walk towards her but she took two steps back, keeping the distance between them.  
The movement made the light reflect off of something in the man's hand._ A gun_, Sherlock realized.  
He turned towards John and mimed a gun with his hand.  
John's eyes widened in surprise and worry. This whole situation just got a lot more dangerous for everyone involved.

A shaky breath escaped the woman's lips. "And what is it that you could offer me? How did you even find me here?"  
_She's stalling,_ Sherlock realized,_ trying to keep him talking until the promised help arrives. Smart girl.  
_The man chuckled humourless. "Oh baby, you know I have my ways. Nobody can hide from me.  
I can give you anything you ever dreamed of and more. I can protect you. Better than anyone else. No one dares to cross me. And if they were stupid enough to try and take what's mine...well, they probably wouldn't live long enough to regret it. You will be safe with me. Both of you."

Another step towards her. Another step to the side to keep the distance between them.  
Sherlock's mind was racing. If they kept that circling around each other up, the woman would get closer to the door._ Probably her intention,_ Sherlock thought. But at the same time the man with the gun would get further away and might just spot him.  
Sherlock knew, he couldn't wait much longer if he wanted to disarm the man without risking someone getting shot.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I told you time and time again that I'm not interested. And you damn fucking well know that she's taboo for you. She has nothing to do with this and I will never let you anywhere near her as long as I live.", the woman said, her nerves finally snapping. The whole situation was just to much for her.

The man gripped the gun tighter in his hand. He was getting impatient with Tabitha and very much pissed off for the way she dared to back-talk to him.  
He strode towards her with long fast steps, raised the hand that was holding the gun and punched her hard in the side of her face.  
She fell to ground with a pain-filled groan.

Sherlock knew he had to act fast.  
He reached the man just moments after he hit the small woman.  
Disarming the man was fairly simple, but his fighting instinct kicked in fast and so a fist fight ensued.  
The man obviously had some fighting experience. A boxer of some sort.  
While Sherlock and the ' little bastard' - as John had begun to call him in his mind – were distracted, the doctor rushed toward Tabitha.

"Your aunt send us. Are you alright?", he asked while helping her up.  
Tabitha just nodded, not trusting her voice.  
"Good", John said, "Get out of here. Hide!"  
John gave her a gentle push in the direction of the door and then stumbled towards the exit.

Assured that the young woman was out of harms way, he turned around just in time to see the little bastard break out of Sherlock's grip, scanning the room, looking for the gun.  
John spotted it not far from him and rushed to grab it.  
The young man knew he wouldn't be reaching the gun in time. So, without looking back, he ran in the direction of the font door.  
Sherlock and John rushed after him into the hallway. They heard the guy cursing while he ran down the road.

"Let him run for now. We have more pressing matters to attend to.", said Sherlock.  
"You alright?", John asked while Sherlock used his hand to wipe some blood from his lip.  
"I'm fine. Where is the woman? What's her name again?"  
"Tabitha. Her name is Tabitha. I told her to hide."  
John looked around, calling out the name of Mrs. Hudson's niece.  
"Tabitha? He is gone. Where are you?"  
"She went upstairs.", Sherlock said, already climbing the stairs.  
"How did you - you know what? Never mind.", John mumbled as he began to follow Sherlock.


	3. First encounter

**AN: I want to let you guys know, that I don't really know how a British toddler would talk. I do have a daughter the same age as Hazel but she doesn't speak English. What I plan to do, is taking my daughter's speech pattern and translate it into English. I hope that that will work out but if you find anything that just doesn't sound quite right, please point it out to me so I can correct it.  
It would make me immensely happy if you took time out of your day to leave a review.  
I _still_ don't own anything recognizable from the show.**

**Now on with the story. Hope you like it. :)**

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Chapter 3: First encounter

Reaching the upper floor of the house, John again called out to Tabitha.  
"In here. Is he gone?", she called out of a room on the right.  
"Yeah, he's… run off.", John replied after stepping into the room and looking at the hurt woman. Tabitha was clutching a broom in her hands as if to defend herself with it. Her wide open eyes and trembling hands a clear sign of the fear and tension she felt.  
Upon hearing the reassurance that it was safe, relief flooded Tabitha and the cleaning utensil fell from her shaking hands. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and sat down on the floor – afraid of her wobbly legs giving out.  
She didn't acknowledge the two man standing in the entrance of the room. Instead she simply stared at a blank part of the wall, completely absorbed in her own mind.

Sherlock turned on the light as John went and knelt down next to her.  
"Tabitha, may I check you over? I'm a doctor. My name is John and that over there is Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson – your aunt – send us to help you out." John's voice was soft and gentle while he touched and probed her injured face with professional ease.  
The hit of that guy busted her lip and part of the gun split the skin on her temple. She would certainly develop a black eye, bruises already forming. They might have to watch her for signs of concussion but thankfully the skull wasn't fractured and he could see no other apparent injuries aside from on her face.  
While John examined the young woman – _Tabitha,_ he reminded himself – Sherlock looked around the room once before his eyes landed on the scared woman in the middle of the room.  
She was small, tiny even. Her thin frame and small size gave her a fragile look. Her clothes were at least one size to big for her and he could make out dark circles under her uninjured eye. She hadn't been eating properly for at least six to eight months and had trouble sleeping. Clear signs of stress.  
Her pixie-cut blonde hair was sticking out in every direction. She must have run her hands through them numerous times in nervous habit. Her still bleeding lip trembled slightly and her deep azure eyes were still staring unseeingly at the wall.  
"Tabitha?" John's concerned voice and light touch to her upper arm snapped her out of her daze. She turned her head to look at him properly, her eyes slowly starting to focus on the man kneeling in front of her.  
"Huh? Oh, I'm fine. Don't worry.", she gave him a small smile. "John was it? Thank you for saving me. You too, um-", Tabitha looked up at the man still standing in doorway, trying to remember his name.  
"Sherlock Holmes. If you are indeed fine, then I would suggest that you get your daughter and pack some essentials. That man is not going to stay away long and he most likely won't be coming back alone, either. John, help her. I'm going to call a taxi to get us out of here", Sherlock ordered dismissively while holding out a handkerchief for Tabitha to take. Already pulling his phone out of his coat pocket.  
John helped Tabitha to get up. "Alright. Wait. Daughter? How do you know she has a daughter?", he asked, confused, while Tabitha dabbed the handkerchief at her lip, looking at Sherlock in surprise.  
"Oh, John. It's quite obvious."  
The doctor simply gave him a look that said _"not to me".  
_Sherlock rolled his eyes. John Watson really could be oblivious at times. "Weren't you listening earlier? That man referred to the 'both of them', meaning that there is one more person involved. Her emotional reaction led me to the conclusion that it must be her child. The fact that Tabitha said 'she' when talking about her child means that she has a daughter. And if you would have looked at the room we are currently in, you would have realized that it is designed to accommodate a young girl. Two, maybe three years of age."  
John looked around the room, realizing Sherlock was right. "Of course. How did I miss this?", he muttered under his breath as he was taking in the plush animals, toys, children's bed and stack of diapers and wipes.  
"So, where is she?", Sherlock asked, scanning the room for clues.  
Tabitha opened her mouth to answer when Sherlock exclaimed:"Found you!" and strode through the room toward the closet on the opposite wall.

"How did you know Hazel was in the closet?", Tabitha asked. She went to stand next to Sherlock, craning her neck to look into his face. Her head barely reached his chest. She had calmed down considerably and seemed genuinely curios. One side of his mouth turned up into a half smile as he looked down at her. He pointed at the door of the closet. "The corner of a blanket is sticking out and the door is slightly ajar. The pattern of the design is the same as the one on the pillow on the bed. You deliberately left the door ajar because you were worried about the air circulation."

Tabitha looked down - and sure enough - a small part of Hazel's blanket stuck out. Not knowing how to reply, she just looked up at him once more before turning to said door.  
She carefully opened it and crouched down as John joined them.  
Both men watched as she gently stroked the hair and back of the sleeping girl.  
Hazel had light blonde, curly hair that already went past her shoulders. Her small hands were clutching a stuffed dog tightly to her chest. Her mouth was slightly open and quiet snoring could be heard.  
"She's adorable.", John said and Tabitha smiled up at him.  
"Hazel, sweety, wake up. I know, it's late but you have to get up. We need to go. Do you want to visit aunt Martha?", Tabitha coaxed her daughter awake. Hazel blearily opened her eyes and yawned. "Hello mummy", she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with her little fist.

"John, help her pack. I will be downstairs calling the taxi.", Sherlock addressed the good doctor as he stepped closer to him. "Give me the weapon. And hurry. I don't want to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary." John handed Sherlock the gun with a nod and with another glance down at mother and daughter, the consulting detective turned and made a swift exit down the stairs.  
Tabitha stood, Hazel securely perched onto her hip and looking much more composed than just moments ago. "Hazel, this is my friend John. He is going to bring us to aunt Martha." Hazel gave a shy wave and looked back to her mother. The little girls eyes widened as she took in her mothers bruised face. "Mummy, you hurt!" She went to touch her mother's cheek but Tabitha grabbed her arm before she could. "Please don't touch it. It's going to hurt, if you do. I just fell, don't you worry. It only hurts a little bit.", Tabitha placated her daughter who seemed to accept her mother's explanation. "I'm just going to pack a bag and then we can go, alright? Why don't you pick out which plushie you want to take with you?"  
She put the little girl down onto the floor and Hazel made her way over to her collection of plush toys that were aligned on the wall next to her bed, a look of concentration on her face. For a moment, Tabitha watched her with love and adoration shining in her eyes before looking at John. With a nod, she went to grab a travelling bag from inside the closet.  
"Here, let me hold that for you", John offered with outstretched hands to take the bag from her. Tabitha smiled in thanks and handed it to him. She turned back to look into the closet, shuffling through it, picking out the things she wanted to take with them.

"You are handling all of this remarkably well.", John observed quietly. A humourless chuckle escaped Tabitha's lips as she turn to look at John with a wry smile. "This isn't quite the right time to have a mental breakdown, now is it?", she replied just as quietly – not wanting her daughter to hear – while turning back to the task at hand. "Besides, I have something else to focus on right now" - she help up a shirt in explanation before putting it in the bag - "and I don't want Hazel to see me like that. Have to stay strong for her sake. Trust me, I will definitely break down and have a good cry once I'm alone and we're out of immediate danger."  
Done with the wardrobe, Tabitha turned towards the diapers that were stacked on a shelf. She put a hand-full of them into the bag along with a pack of wipes. She took a contemplative look around her daughter's room, eyes locking onto a book-shelf. She went over and grabbed a couple of the well-thumbed children's-books and packed them as well. "I think I've got all of Hazel's things. Would you mind staying here with her while I grab the rest of our stuff from the bath and my room? They are just across the hallway."  
"Yeah, sure. No problem.", John replied as he handed the bag over to Tabitha. He watched her leave the room with purposeful steps. John had to agree with her. Now _really_ wasn't a good time for any kind of breakdown. He was glad that Tabitha was holding herself together as good as she did. It made this much, _much_ easier. His respect for the fragile looking woman grew as he realized that not many people would be able to handle this situation as well as she did. It made him wonder what ordeal she must have already went through to make it so.  
Turning around, John looked over to Hazel. The little girl was sitting in front of her stuffed animals with a very serious look on her face. Her eyebrows were creased together and her mouth was pulled into a pout. She still had the dog in one hand. The other reached out to grab a yellow rabbit. She held both in front of her, face scrunched up in frustration. Realizing she couldn't decide between the two, John knelt down next to her. "Why don't you take both with you? I'm sure it's fine." He smiled down at her as she gave him a hopeful look. "Do you want to go and see if your mummy finished packing?" He was anxious to get moving. This calm wouldn't last much longer and Sherlock was surely getting impatient by now. John might not have known the other man for long – not even week – but he already knew that patience wasn't one of Sherlock's strongest traits.  
Hazel seemed to be contemplating his words. After a moment, she nodded, pushed the rabbit into John's hand and took the other into her own, pulling him after her. He let out a chuckle as he struggled to get on his feet. Coming into the hallway, John called out for Tabitha, looking around. He saw light coming out of a room in the middle of the hallway and led Hazel towards it. They came into the room seeing Tabitha standing between a bed and a closet. Her hair looked tamer now, John realized. _She must have tried to fix it, while in the bathroom_.  
Tabitha looked up as the two entered the room and smiled at seeing Hazel holding John's hand, then continued packing. "Hello, lovely. Did you decide who shall come with us on this trip? I'm nearly finished as well." She walked up to the bedside table and picked up a framed photograph. "We're not going to come back, are we?", Tabitha asked, not looking up from the photograph. "Not for a good while at least, I think.", John answered her, an apologetic tone in his voice. Her hands started trembling visibly. "I_ hate_ this, John. I hate this _so much_. I don't want to run any more. It's just not _fair._"

John felt a wave of compassion well up inside him for this little family. He thought about ways he could console her. But before he could form a reply, Sherlock's voice drifted up from downstairs. "The taxi's here. Hurry up!"  
Tabitha carefully put the picture frame into the bag and closed the zip. For a moment, she stood bent over the bed before she shook her head and straightened her shoulders.  
"Okay, let's get out of here.", she said determined while turning around.  
Tabitha went to pick up Hazel, who was letting out a big yawn. "Let's get you to aunt Martha and back to bed, mh? John, would you mind carrying the bag?"  
"Of course not.", John replied with a small smile, shouldering the travelling bag.  
As they passed Hazel's room on their way down, Tabitha quickly popped into it and grabbed a blanket that hung over the end of the bed. She put the blanket securely over Hazel's shoulders before descending the stairs to meet Sherlock.  
The waiting detective was just about to ask what took them so long when the cabby honked the horn.

They hurried outside towards the vehicle, not bothering with closing the front door, and clambered into the back of the car.  
Sherlock gave the address to the cabby while Tabitha fiddled with the blanket and positioned Hazel onto her lap in a way that would be the most comfortable for everyone in the confined space. She bend her head to kiss her daughter's temple and rested her cheek atop Hazel's head, looking out of the window.  
John watched as Hazel cuddled impossibly closer into her mother's embrace and promptly fell asleep again with the soft rocking of the driving car.  
His attention drifted over to Sherlock, who was watching Tabitha intensely, opened his mouth to ask one of the many questions the detective most likely had for the young woman opposite him.  
But just then, he caught John shaking his head, silently mouthing "_give her a moment_".  
Sherlock looked back at Tabitha just in time to see a single tear rolling down her cheek and disappearing into the little girls curls.  
He understood that the last few hours were very stressful for her and he knew – women especially – tended to react very emotional to these kind of situations. He fully anticipated more tears to come but was surprised to see Tabitha close her eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath.  
She took a few more calming breaths to collect herself and then turned to look at Sherlock with glassy eyes.  
"Thank you again for your help back there. I don't want to think about what could've happened to us, if you two hadn't shown up when you did. I'm so sorry you got injured. Does it hurt much?", she addressed Sherlock quietly after a quick glance to John when she was thanking the both of them. She felt immense gratitude towards these two men. They didn't even know her and still put themselves in danger for her.

"Do not worry about this little injury. The little git only got one hit in. My lip will heal in a short amount of time. It does not bother me in the slightest.", Sherlock dismissed Tabitha's worries with an impassive tone. "Alright, if you say so… Still, I feel bad that you were in a position to get hurt in the first place. So, how do you two know aunt Martha?", Tabitha asked, trying to change the subject after feeling slightly put off by Sherlock's reaction.  
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson is our landlady. We just got home when you called her and she asked us to check on you and bring you to her." It was John who answered. Tabitha turned to look at the man sitting next to her. He had a kind face, she observed, much more open than that of his… flat-mate? Partner? The two men could be a couple, for all she knew. But Tabitha felt it was impolite to ask. She wouldn't care, either way and would probably find out soon enough. Seeing as they lived in the same house as aunt Martha and she would have to stay there for the foreseeable future. She did not like intruding in all of their lives like that but she really had no other place to go.

Tabitha tried to smile at John but winced instead as the movement pulled at her bruised skin. Now that the adrenalin slowly left her system, she started to feel the pain of her head wounds creeping in.  
John, the observant doctor that he was, saw this and said:" We should be home soon. I can give you some pain-killers once we arrive. They aren't the strongest but they should take the edge of the pain away, at least."  
"That would be great. Thank you.", Tabitha replied. She then looked down at the sleeping child in her arms, gently brushed a stray curl out of her face and hugged her even closer to her chest. She then proceeded to turn her head to again rest atop her daughter's. She watched the London night pass them by, grateful that her daughter was safe for now and didn't yet realize just how terrible their lives had been as of late or how close to danger they were just minutes ago.

Unbeknownst to the occupants of the taxi that was bringing them ever closer to Baker Street, two black cars had entered the street they had left just minutes ago. A group of men, armed with guns rushed into a recently vacated house. The leader of the group screamed in rage as he realized that his reason for going into that house had already left and that again he had no idea where the target of his obsession was.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't long after Tabitha fell silent, that the taxi reached it's destination. After the men got out of the car, Tabitha scooted over to the open door – Hazel still asleep on her lap. Seeing her struggle to get out of the car without waking the child, John shoved the travelling bag into Sherlock's hands and turned to Tabitha. "Do you want me to take her?", he asked, holding his arms out to take the little girl.  
"That's very kind of you. Thanks.", Tabitha said as she handed the sleeping child over and climbed out of the taxi.

In the meantime Sherlock had pulled out his key and was just about to turn it in the lock when the door swung open to reveal a distraught Martha Hudson.

"Oh, thank the Gods that you're back. I was going mad with worry! Are you all alright? What happened?", she asked as she stepped aside to let them in, looking over them as they passed her.

"Oh Tabbi! Look at you face! Oh, you poor dear!", she exclaimed as her eyes landed on her niece. Tabitha rushed over to hug her aunt, holding her tightly. "Don't worry aunt Martha, I'm alright. It probably looks far worse than it is.", she mumbled into the older woman's neck, "Thank you for sending these two. They came in just the right moment."

They stepped out of the embrace and Mrs. Hudson cupped Tabitha's good cheek with one hand. The young woman leaned into the comforting touch and closed her eyes.  
"Please, tell me what happened. Did you get him?" Mrs. Hudson looked from up to John and Sherlock.

"No, he got away.", Sherlock replied with a hint of chagrin in his voice, "I'm sure your niece would like to get the pain-reliever, John promised her. A cup of tea wouldn't be amiss either, Mrs. Hudson."  
"Alright. But just because these are special circumstances. Remember, I am your landlady and not your caretaker, Sherlock!", Mrs. Hudson huffed, taking her hand from Tabitha's face to point a finger at Sherlock's retreating form.

Tabitha went to John to take her daughter back. Hazel started to wake up again and Tabitha gently hushed and rocked the fussing girl. "Is there somewhere I could put her to bed?", she asked, looking from her aunt to John. "I sadly don't have a spare room and I still haven't hired anyone to get rid of the damp in the basement-flat. What about the spare room in your flat?", Mrs. Hudson replied apologetic, addressing John. "Well, from what I've seen of that room, you can't sleep in there tonight. It's so full of boxes that you can't even see the bed, but you can have my room for now. I'll just bunk out on the couch.", John offered with a smile. He picked up the bag which Sherlock had left at the bottom of the stairs and motioned for Tabitha to follow him. Adjusting her grip on her daughter, she climbed up the stairs after John while Mrs. Hudson busied herself with making tea.

Reaching the top of the stairs, John pointed out the living- and bathroom as he bid her to follow him up another pair of stairs and stopped in front of another room, opening the door to let Tabitha enter. She stepped into the moderate sized room and saw a couple of unpacked moving-boxes sitting in one corner. "I'm sorry about the mess. I just moved in a couple of days ago."

_Flat-mates, then_.~ Tabitha thought.

"Don't worry about it. The room is lovely."

Tabitha laid Hazel down on the wall-side of the bed and gently stroked her back, putting the tired girl back to sleep.

After a moment John excused himself to get the pain-killers from the bathroom and so Tabitha found herself alone for the first time since her life got turned upside down again.

Watching her daughter cuddle deeper into the blanket, she felt… a lot of things. Love for the little girl in front of her. Remorse for not being able to give Hazel the calm and happy life, she deserved. Fear and anxiety about the future and immense gratitude to aunt Martha for sending John and Sherlock to their rescue.

Tabitha sat there for a few minutes. She wanted to make sure Hazel was deeply asleep before she left her. She took that time to gather herself. It_ still_ wasn't the right time to break down. The others had done so much to help her and Hazel without really knowing what was going on, at all. Well, aunt Martha had a rough idea but the other two? They went out of their way to help a girl they didn't even knew. They surely had a lot of questions and they deserved answers. So Tabitha took another deep breath and got up. With another look at her sleeping child she silently closed the door and made her way back down to the living room. She came in just as John entered the room from the kitchen area with a glass of water and a pack of pain-killers. He sat both down on the coffee table and gestured for Tabitha to sit down on the couch. "You can take one now and one more later on before you go to sleep, should you need it.", John explained while sitting down on an armchair opposite the couch. Sherlock sat in the other chair, watching her silently.

"Thank you.", Tabitha said before she swallowed a pill and took a big gulp of the water. Shortly after that, Mrs. Hudson came in with the tea. She sat the tray down on the coffee table and poured the tea in the cups before sitting next to her niece.

Tabitha took the cup with shaking hands and took a sip of the hot liquid and sighed.  
"Does one of you smoke? I could really use a cigarette right now.", she asked the two men in front of her.

"You started smoking again?", Mrs. Hudson asked her niece shocked.  
"Can you really blame me with everything that happened this last year? I needed some kind of stress relieve.", Tabitha replied defensively as Sherlock stood up without a word and left the room.

"I guess I can understand it. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.", Mrs. Hudson gave in after contemplating for a few moments.

Just then, Sherlock came back and put a pack of cigarettes, a lighter and an ashtray onto the coffee table.

"Oh thank you!", Tabbi said as she took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it.  
She felt some of the tension leave her body as she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes at the sensation.

"But – but-… Where?… How did-? Sherlock! The whole flat was thoroughly searched by the Scotland Yard just _hours_ ago! Where in the bloody hell did you hide them?!", John asked, looking from the pack to the detective in disbelieve.

"That just shows how incompetent they are, doesn't it?" Sherlock asked with an arrogant smirk.  
"Why did the Scotland Yard search your flat?", Tabitha asked with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.  
"Drugs bust.", Sherlock answered dismissively,"But it was only a pretence to search the flat and bother me because of a case I was working on."  
"Sherlock helps out when the Yard gets stuck on a case, you know... But what I don't understand is how that excuse of a man found you. That house had no connection to you and we were so careful.", Mrs. Hudson said ruefully, shaking her head.  
"I don't know aunt Martha. All I know is that Marco called the landline tonight. He's delusional, told me to pack because he really thought I would go with him. He was convinced I would go willingly. He kept on talking about how this game of hide and seek had to end now and that it was time for me to come home. At that point I just hung up on him. Then I hid Hazel in the closet upstairs and called you." Tabitha took another drag of the cigarette before she continued.  
"I hid behind the basement door and waited. I can't say how long but after a while I heard a car door slam and then him knocking and calling my name. When I didn't answer, he broke the lock and came in. I- I heard the stairs creaking and I – God, I was so scared he would find Hazel. So I purposefully made a noise. Next thing I know, the basement door burst open and he drags me into the hallway. I managed to break free somehow and ran into the living room."  
"The room furthest away from the stairs.", Sherlock observed, "You walked right into danger because you wanted to distract him from the sleeping child upstairs." The detective's voice and expression held a mixture of confusion and something else. Aversion maybe, or disdain. Tabbi wasn't really sure. It was as if he was putting together a puzzle and didn't like the outcome.  
"Of course she would, Sherlock!", Mrs. Hudson huffed as she laid an arm around Tabitha's shoulder, "What kind of mother wouldn't try to protect her child?"  
"Pff.. Sentiment.", Sherlock said with a shake of his head.  
"Sentiment?", Tabitha asked, startled by his tone of voice.  
"Yes. Sentiment. You let your emotions get the better of you and made the stupid and irrational choice to put yourself in harms way.", the detective explained dismissively – as if it was the most obvious conclusion- "Emotions blind the judgement and lead to dumb decisions. They are a weakness and could have easily cost you your life, if we hadn't shown up when we did."

"Sherlock!", John and Mrs. Hudson cried in outrage as Tabbi just stared in shock at the consulting detective.  
It took her a moment to really register what the dark haired man just implied. But once it did, she felt anger rise inside her.

"So you are saying that me trying to protect the one thing that means the most to me, is stupid? That my love for her is a weakness?", Tabbi asked quietly, trying to reign in her temper.  
"I just said that, didn't I?", Sherlock answered annoyed. He really hated it when people repeated the obvious. And – as much as he loathed to admit it – he was getting tired. And hungry. Next to no sleep or food for three days were taking it's toll on his body. Despite what others may thought of him, he _was _human, after all.

"No.", Tabitha said, shaking her head and barely containing her anger, "Love is not stupid. Love is… Love is the only thing that keeps me going. The love I hold for that little girl sleeping upstairs and her love for me… it's the only reason I get up in the morning and face a new day. It's the one thing that makes me keep fighting. Without her, without that love, I would not be sitting here. If it weren't for Hazel, I would have given up_ months_ ago. I'd gladly give my life if it meant that my daughter stayed safe."  
Tabitha wiped the tears form her eyes. She had started crying at some point, unable to keep the anger, pain and sadness inside her any longer. It was all just too much.

"Oh Tabbi, don't say that!", Mrs Hudson cried, hugging her niece closer to her side.  
"I'm sorry, aunt Martha, but it's the truth. Hazel's all I got left. I mean, look at my life! Daniel is dead and now I have to raise our daughter on my own. And as if that wasn't enough, Marco freaking Castillo decides that I am his new plaything. Without Hazel, what would I have left to live for? It just wouldn't be worth it.", Tabbi said as she closed her eyes and shook her head. "So no, Mr. Holmes. Love isn't stupid and it most certainly is not a weakness. It is the biggest source of strength available to mankind and the only thing keeping me alive right now."  
Tabitha stood, not looking at anyone. "I think I'll go upstairs and try to get some sleep. It's been a rather long day. I know you still must have questions but I think they can wait 'till morning. Thank you again for everything you did tonight."  
She didn't wait for someone to reply before she left the room and headed up the stairs. She entered John's room as quietly as she could and made sure Hazel was still asleep. After she slid down to the floor she drew her knees up to her chest and held her head in her hands as silent sobs started to wrack her body._Finally time for that break-down,_ she thought cynically before she let her pent up emotions block out any conscious thought and cried.

Back in the living room John stared at the door Tabitha just left through. He felt for the girl that by now was surely crying her heart out alone in his bedroom.  
"Did you really have to insult her for protecting her child? Was that really necessary?",he asked his flat-mate angrily.

"I was merely stating my opinion. I did not think she would react quite so emotional.", Sherlock replied quietly, still looking puzzled at the door and the stairs leading up to John's bedroom.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head sadly. Technically, she knew that Sherlock wasn't the best when it came to understand relationships or emotions but seeing it so plainly still astounded her. For a moment she thought about how to best explain a mother's love to the man that had 'divorced his emotions'.  
"Sherlock, that girl lost her husband and became the centre of obsession of a very dangerous man in a very short span of time. Her daughter is all she has left. Tabbi wouldn't hesitate even a second to put her own health or even life in danger if it meant Hazel stayed safe. That's just what mothers do. It's practically instinctual to protect your child, no matter the cost.  
Tabitha has enough to deal with as it is. Do me the favour and remember that when you want to criticize her decisions again.", she told him sternly but calmly. Even though she was probably just as outraged as John seemed to be, she knew that screaming or berating wouldn't get through to him. She picked up the tea tray and started to leave the flat but turned once she got to the door. "I think you owe her an apology come morning. It's late. We should all try to get some sleep. Goodnight boys."

"You really should apologize tomorrow, Sherlock. What you said was out of line and just simply rude.", John said, glancing at Sherlock, who seemed lost in thought staring at nothing. He picked up the empty glass and went to put it in the sink. When he returned to the living room he found Sherlock's seat empty and the man in question gone. He just shook his head and took the Union Jack pillow and a throw blanket from the armchair and laid down on the couch.  
As John tried to get comfortable, one of his last conscious thoughts was that he would definitely clear out the guest room tomorrow.

* * *

**Sorry for the rather long wait. I had some health issues and didn't have the energy to work on the story for a while. ****And to be honest, I'm still not completely happy with how this chapter turned out. I had a rough outline for it for but when it came to really writing it out, I just got stuck on so many points. Ah well, it is what it is.  
Thanks to all of you who pushed the follow and favourite button. :)**


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